The Dragon Keeper (13 page)

Year the 8th of the Reign of the Most Noble and Magnificent Satrap Cosgo

Year the 2nd of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown

To Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug

Sealed scroll is a message for the Rain Wild Councils at Trehaug and Cassarick, from the Bingtown Traders’ Council, requesting a complete accounting of funds already sent for the upkeep of the young dragons. No more funds will be gathered or released to the Council at Cassarick without such an accounting.

Detozi,

I’m getting a curled foot defect in almost half the young pigeons I’ve hatched here in the last month. Have you ever seen this in your flock or heard of a remedy? I fear that poor feed is at the root of my problem, yet the damned Council here will not give me sufficient funds to buy a good variety of grain and the dried peas that are so essential to bird health. They will tax us to death to rebuild the roads and raise the wrecks in the harbor, but turn a deaf ear to my plea for decent food for my birds!

Erek

Year the 9th of the Reign of the Most Noble and Magnificent Satrap Cosgo

Year the 3rd of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug

To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown

In the sealed scroll, this month’s accounting of funds expended by the Rain Wild Councils of Trehaug and Cassarick, with an invoice for the Bingtown Traders’ Council’s share of the expenses. By separate bird you will receive the text of a post that we request all outbound ships carry, which is a reward offered for substantial news about the dragon Tintaglia.

Erek,

My cousin Sethin is seeking an apprentice position for her son Reyall. He is a responsible lad of fourteen, already experienced in the care and feeding of messenger birds. I commend him to you without reservation. Although I am confident you are not one to make much of this, I assure you he is but lightly marked and can go about his tasks unveiled without causing distress or inciting curiosity in any who may visit your coops. If you have a position for an apprentice, we would gladly send him to you, at our expense, with the next shipment of young birds to freshen the blood of the Bingtown flock. He had been expecting to be taken on at Cassarick when they decided to coop a flock of their own, but the Cassarick Council hired two Tattooed instead. The Rain Wilds are not what they used to be! Please let me hear back from you on this matter by a separate bird addressed only to me.

Detozi

Year the 4th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown

To Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug

In a sealed scroll case, a warning of danger from the Bingtown Traders’ Council to the Rain Wild Traders’ Councils at Cassarick and Trehaug. A forgery ring has been discovered operating in Bingtown, creating false trading credentials and licenses to travel on the Rain Wild River. Caution is advised in creating new trade partnerships, especially with those foreign to the Cursed Shores. Scrutinize credentials closely.

Detozi,

I am writing with a small concern about your nephew and my apprentice, Reyall. For the last year, he has been in all ways admirably devoted to the birds, steady, reliable, and conscientious. But recently he has formed friendships with several youths who spend much of their time gambling and carousing, much to the detriment of his work. The mingling of Trader, Three Ships, and Tattooed youth in our city is not always beneficial to building a solid work ethic. I have given him a stern warning, but I think a similar chastisement from his family might have a greater effect. If he does not settle to his work again, I fear I must send him home without his journeyman papers.

Regretfully, Erek

Year the 5th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug

To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown

A sealed missive from Trader Goshen to Derren Sawyer, Three Ships Town, concerning a shipment of hardwood that is late for delivery.

Erek,

Apologies to both you and Reyall that his allowance has been delayed. Thank you so much for helping him with his finances. The storms have been terrible, delaying shipments on the river and causing much misery for man and bird. Let my Kitta rest well before you return her to me. Reyall’s funds should arrive as soon as the Hardy makes port in Bingtown. Again, our gratitude.

Detozi

L
eftrin stood on the deck
,
watching the Chalcedean ship’s boat draw near. The skiff rode low in the water, burdened by the portly merchant, the rowing crew, and a heap of grain sacks. The tall three-masted ship they were coming from dwarfed his barge. It was one reason that he declined to approach it. If the Chalcedeans wished to trade with him, let them come to him, where he could look down on them before they boarded. None of them appeared to be carrying weapons.

“Aren’t you going to go look at their cargo before they start delivering to us?” Swarge asked him. The well-muscled tillerman slowly pulled on the long handle of the sweep.

Leftrin, leaning on the railing, shook his head. “If they want my gold, let them do the work of delivering to me.” Leftrin had no love for Chalcedeans, and no trust in them. He wouldn’t venture onto their deck where any sort of treachery might befall an honest man. Swarge made a slow sweep with the steering oar, effortlessly holding the barge in place against the river’s spreading current. All around them, the pale waters of the Rain Wild River were dispersing into the brack of the shallow bay. This was as far as Leftrin ever brought Tarman and farther than he usually did. He made most of his living trading up and down the river among the Rain Wilder settlements, just as his father and grandfather had before him. Not for him the open seas and foreign shores. No. He made only a few yearly forays to the river’s mouth, usually when a reliable go-between contacted him. Then he went only to trade for the foodstuffs that the Rain Wild residents needed to survive. He couldn’t be as fussy about whom he dealt with at the river mouth, but Leftrin kept his guard up. A wise trader knew the difference between making a deal and making a friend. When dealing with a Chalcedean, there was only business, never friendship, and the trader who bartered with them had best have eyes in the back of his head. Technically, the two countries were at peace now, but peace with Chalced never lasted.

So Leftrin watched them come with narrowed eyes and a suspicious set to his mouth. The fellows on the oars looked to be ordinary sailors, and the sacks of grain no more than sacks of grain. Nonetheless, as the small boat pulled alongside his barge and tossed a line, he let Skelly, their youngest crew member, catch it and make it fast. He kept his place by the railing and watched the men in the boat. Big Eider ghosted up alongside him and stood, quietly scratching his black beard and watching the boat come. “Watch the sailors,” Leftrin told him softly. “I’ll keep an eye on the merchant.”

Eider nodded.

Ladder cleats were built right onto Tarman’s sides. The Chalcedean merchant climbed them easily, and Leftrin revised his estimate of the man; he might be on the heavy side, but he looked physically able enough. He wore a heavy sealskin cloak, trimmed and lined with scarlet. A wide leather belt decorated with silver secured his woolen tunic. The sea wind caught at the man’s cloak and sent it billowing, but the merchant appeared unfazed by it.
As much sailor as merchant,
Leftrin thought. Once aboard, the merchant nodded gravely to Leftrin and received a curt bow in return. The merchant leaned over the side and barked several commands in Chalcedean to his oarsmen before turning back to Leftrin.

“Greetings, Captain. I will have my crewmen bring aboard samples of both my wheat and my barley. I trust the quality of my goods will meet your approval.”

“That is yet to be seen, Merchant.” Leftrin spoke affably but firmly, smiling all the while.

The man glanced around at his bare deck. “And your trade goods? I expected to find them set out for my inspection.”

“Coin needs little inspection. When the time comes, you’ll find the scale set up in my stateroom. I go by weight rather than coinage.”

“And to that, I have no objection. Kings and their mints may rise and fall, but gold is gold and silver is silver. Still”—and here the man dropped his voice—“when one comes to the mouth of the Rain Wild River, one does not expect gold and silver. I had hoped for a chance to purchase Rain Wild goods from you.”

“If you’re after Rain Wild goods, then you’ll have to take yourself to Bingtown. Everyone knows that is the only place to obtain them.” Leftrin watched past the Chalcedean’s shoulder as one of his men gained the deck. Eider was ready to meet the man, but he didn’t offer to take his sack from him. Bellin stood nearby, her heavy pole ready to hand. Without even intending to, she looked more formidable than Eider.

The foreign oarsman lugged a heavy sack of grain slung across his shoulder. He took two steps from the rail, let his sack thud to Leftrin’s deck, and then turned back to fetch another one. The sack looked good, tightly woven hemp, unmarked by salt or damp. But that didn’t mean the grain inside was good, or that all the bags would be of like quality. Leftrin kept his face neutral.

The Chalcedean trader came a half step closer. “That is, indeed, what men say and what many men hear. But a few men hear of other goods, and other bargains, quietly struck and to the great benefit of both parties. Our go-between mentioned that you were a man well known as both a shrewd captain and a savvy trader, owner of the most efficient barge ever seen. He said that if there was anyone who might have the sort of special goods I seek, it would be you. Or that you would know to whom I should speak.”

“Did he?” Leftrin asked affably as the oarsman deposited another bag on his deck. It looked as tightly woven and well kept as the first one. He nodded to Hennesey, and the mate opened the deckhouse door. Grigsby, the ship’s yellow cat, sauntered out onto the deck.

“He did,” the merchant asserted in a bold yet quiet voice.

Past the merchant’s shoulder, Leftrin watched the cat. The sassy little bastard stuck his claws in the
Tarman
’s deck, stretched, and then pulled his claws in toward himself, leaving tiny scratches on the wood. He strolled toward the captain, making a leisurely tour of the deck before settling to his task. He went to the unfamiliar sacks, sniffed them casually, and then butted his head against one, marking it as worthy of being his possession. Then he moved on toward the galley door. Leftrin pursed his mouth and gave a small nod of approval. If there’d been any scent of rodent on the sacks at all, the cat would have shown more interest. So this grain merchant came from a clean ship. Remarkable.

“Special goods,” the man repeated quietly. “He said it was known to him that you had access.”

Leftrin turned his head sharply to meet the merchant’s intense gray gaze. His brow furrowed. The man misinterpreted his look.

“Of all kinds. Even the smallest scale. A piece of skin.” He lowered his voice more. “A piece of cocoon wood.”

“If that’s what you want to trade for, you’ve come to the wrong man,” Leftrin said bluntly. He turned away from the merchant and crossed the deck to the sacks of grain. He went down on one knee, drawing his belt knife as he did so. He cut the twine that stitched the sack’s mouth and pulled it free, then plunged his hand into the grain and rolled the kernels in the palm of his hand. It was good grain, clean and free of chaff and straw. He spilled it back into the sack and pulled a handful from the depths of the bag. When he brought it out into the light, it was just as pleasing as the first handful. With his free hand, he picked up some of the wheat and put it into his mouth. He chewed it.

“Dried in sunlight, to keep well, but not dried so much that it has no flavor or virtue,” the merchant informed him.

Leftrin nodded abruptly. He poured what he held back into the bag, dusted his hands, and turned his attention to the next bag. He cut the knot, unlaced the sack, and continued his sampling process. When he was finished, he sat back on his heels, swallowed the mouthful of barley, and conceded, “The quality is good. If the rest of the shipment matches the samples in these bags, I’ll be a happy buyer. Once we’ve set the price per bag, you can start transferring the cargo. I’ll reserve the right to refuse any bag, and I’ll inspect each one as it comes onto my deck.”

The merchant favored him with a slow nod that made his agreement formal. “Your terms are easy to accept. Now. Shall we retire to your quarters to set the price per bag and perhaps discuss other transactions?”

“Or we could negotiate here,” Leftrin observed evenly.

“If you please, your quarters would be more private,” the merchant replied.

“As you will.” Once or twice, Leftrin had trafficked in forbidden goods. He had no such goods that he wished to trade now, but he’d let the man make an incriminating offer. Possibly an offended reaction and a suggestion that the merchant’s offer might be reported to the Rain Wild authorities, thus curtailing his trading permit, would bring the price of his grain down. Leftrin was not above such tactics. The man was, after all, a Chalcedean. No fairness was owed to any of them. He gestured toward the door of his small stateroom, certain that this well-garbed merchant would be appalled at his tiny quarters.

“And while we talk, I will have my workers ferry the grain to your barge.”

“Before we have set a price?” Leftrin was surprised. It gave him too much of an advantage. If he delayed the bargaining until most of the cargo was on board his vessel, and then refused to meet the merchant’s demands, the Chalcedean would have to have his crew unload the entire barge again.

“I am very certain that we shall agree upon a price we both find fair,” the man said quietly.

So be it,
Leftrin thought. Never turn down an advantage in bargaining. Over his shoulder, he called to the mate, “Hennesey! You and Grigsby watch the grain sacks as they bring them. Keep a count of each. Don’t be shy about checking any that look light or water stained or rat gnawed. Tap on my door when we’ve got a load.”

When they had entered the stateroom and seated themselves, Leftrin on his bunk and the merchant on the room’s sole chair at the small table, the man lost none of his aplomb. He looked about the humble room and then again made his formal nod and said, “I wish you to know my name. I am Sinad of the Arich heritage. The sons of my family have been traders for longer than Bingtown has existed. We have not favored the wars that have put our countries at odds with each other and restricted our traffic and our profits. So, now that the hostilities have subsided, we hasten to make contact directly with the traders of the Rain Wild River. We wish to establish custom that will eventually, we hope, be very profitable to both of us. In fact, exclusive custom with a small circle of reputable traders would make us rejoice.”

Despite his reservations about all Chalcedeans, the man’s directness impressed Leftrin favorably. He brought out the bottle of rum and the two small glasses he kept in his room for trading negotiations. The glasses were ancient, heavy and a very dark blue. As he poured the rum, silver stars suddenly sparkled in a band around the rim of each glass. The display had the desired effect on the merchant. He gave a small gasp of amazement and then leaned forward avariciously. He took up his glass without being invited to do so and held it up to the cabin’s small window. Leftrin spoke while he was still admiring the priceless article.

“I’m Leftrin, captain and owner of the river barge
Tarman.
And I don’t know what my family did for a living before we left Jamaillia, and I expect it doesn’t much matter. What I do now is run this barge. I trade. If you’re an honest man with clean goods, we’ll strike a bargain, and the next time I see you, I’ll be even more prone to bargain. But I don’t trade exclusively with anyone. The man who gets my coins is the man with the best bargain. So. Let’s settle to our task. How much per sack for the wheat, and how much for the barley?”

The Chalcedean lowered his glass back to the table. He had not tasted it. “What are you offering? For goods such as these,” and he tapped the glass before him with the back of his forefinger’s nail. “I’d be willing to give you an excellent exchange.”

“I’m offering only coin, this trip. Coins of silver and gold, by weight value rather than minting. Nothing else.” The glasses were of Elderling make. He had a few treasures of that nature. A woman’s shawl that seemed to generate warmth. A strong box that emitted chimes and a bright light whenever the lid was opened. There were other items as well, mostly things his grandfather had bought for his grandmother many years ago. He kept them all beneath a secret hatch under his bunk. It pleased him to use glasses worth a fortune to serve a Chalcedean merchant rum in the confines of his seemingly humble stateroom.

Sinad Arich leaned back on the small chair. It creaked as it took his weight. He lifted his wide shoulders and then let them fall. “Coin is good, for grain. I can use coin, of any minting. With coin, a man can traffic in any goods he chooses. Grain on this trip, for example. But on my last journey I visited Bingtown, with coin of my own. And there what I bought for my coin was information.”

Chill uncertainty rose in Leftrin. The man had not made a threatening move, but his earlier comment about his “efficient barge” now took on an ominous meaning. Leftrin continued to lean back in his chair and to smile. But the smile didn’t reach his pale eyes. “Let’s set a price for the grain and be done. I’d like to be heading back up the river by the turn of the tide.”

“As would I,” Sinad concurred.

Leftrin took a swig from his glass. The rum went down warm, but the glass seemed unusually cold against his fingers. “Surely you mean that by the turn of the tide, you hope to be back to sea.”

Sinad took a gentlemanly sip from his own glass. “Oh, no. I am most careful to say exactly what I mean, especially when I am speaking in a tongue once foreign to me. I am hoping that by the time the tide turns, my grain and my personal effects will be loaded on your barge. I expect that we will have settled a price for my grain and for your ser vices, and that you will then take me up your river.”

“I can’t. You must know our rules and laws in this matter. You are not only a foreigner, you are a Chalcedean. To visit the Rain Wilds, you must have a permit from the Bingtown Traders’ Council. To trade with us, you must have the proper licenses from the Rain Wild Council. You cannot even travel up the river without the proper travel papers.”